The Old Republic 'Sneak Peek'
by Custode delle chiavi
Summary: Just an idea I had the other day...


Hello, Fanfiction fans!

With my Dragon Age story still going, my Mass Effect story starting to pick up, and my Kingdom Hearts series preparing for a very near breakthrough (It's past time, I know), I am thinking about doing one more story…

This is a 'sneak peek' of it, if you will. If you like it, tell me. If not, then I'll leave it alone.

Enjoy and comment.

* * *

The Year is 3643 BBY (Before the Battle of Yavin), the tenth year after the signing of the Treaty of Coruscant (BTC)

The Esseles, a Republic transport that routinely carries civilians to and from the Republic capital world of Coruscant, has come under assault. Attacked by a powerful Imperial warship under the command of Grand Moff Kilran, commander of the Imperial Fifth Fleet, the outgunned and outnumbered crew of the Esseles ready themselves to fight against the coming Imperials.

Having booked passage on the transport to Coruscant, champions of the Republic now find themselves thrust into this dire situation. Taking up arms, they must now band together to battle back the Imperial boarding parties, defend the passengers and crew of the Esseles and free the transport from the Imperial warship…

* * *

Ambassador Asara was waiting for them with three of the Esseles's security officers guarding here. Before the security shield was even halfway down, a loud boom rattled the hanger. The previously sealed hangers doors to the Ambassadors left were being unlocked.

Chalkerc's head throbbed, as did Marii's. They looked to each other, feeling the same disturbance in the Force.

"What is it?" asked the smuggler Shalden, drawing his primary blaster pistol as he noticed his heads look like they got instant headaches.

"Don't tell me you Jedi are getting sick." Corso Riggs stated, worried and a little pissed.

The Guardian spoke first, his droid, T7-01, buzzing worrisome noises. "I feel...something."

"Bad?" Corso asked

The Consular answered the question. "When you're Force sensitive, you don't feel these things unless something bad is going to happen."

"Don't worry. Whatever it is, we got this." said the lieutenant Flexon, working on the security console, assuring the rest of his fellow Republic friends as the shield was being to go offline. Her sergeant, the cathar Aric Jorgan, nodded in agreement.

The doors opened, and in between four Imperial soldiers was a man dressed in black clothes and grey armor, hooded, his hands clasped together like he was preparing for something exciting to happen.

Marii gulped. "Oh no, we don't."

It was a Sith. A Sith Marauder, to be more precise, with both Jedi seeing twin lightsabers on his belt from afar. Based on what they remembered from their studies, a Marauder's style of combat mirrored that of the Jedi Sentinel, sacrificing heavy armor to properly utilize the Jar'Kai technique, the art of wielding two lightsabers simultaneously.

"Who the hell is that cat?" Shalden asked before Riggs could ask it first.

"Enemy I feel. Strong he is with Force." The Trandoshian hissed.

"How can you tell that?" Aric Jorgan asked, confused.

"Because the Imperials are keeping their distance. And they only do that with those trained in the ways of the Sith." Chalkerc stated, not looking at them, but looking through the shield to where their exit shuttle was.

"Imperial officers can be nasty, too." Shalden stated.

"Would you rather be under the command of one who might kill and is closer to being more or less human or one who **will** kill you and **isn't** human anymore?" asked Chalkerc bluntly. The smuggler didn't respond quickly.

"Uh...option three, please?" he joked.

The Ambassador's security 'force' approached the oncoming Sith and his entourage with guns armed and loaded.

"They all dead." Chalkerc said, his voice sympathetic and cold.

"Sir, I respectful request you go **faster**!" Jorgan stated bluntly.

"I'm trying. I'm trying!" The lieutenant said frustrated. "This thing's

The Imperials pointed their rifles at the security team, but the Sith made no move other than stopping.

Then, in a matter of seconds, he Force-pushed one guard aside into a wall, choking him. The other two ran in sight of this fearsome foe, but we gunned down by the Imperials. The Marauder's grip tightened on the poor guard before he flawlessly flung one of his crimson blades into his chest, killing the guard instantly. The saber returned to him as quick as he launched it.

The Ambassador stumbled down in horror, then got back up and ran as fast as she could to avoid confronting this minster of a human, if he still was one at all.

"Hurry up!" Chalkerc roared.

Flexon pounded the console. "Blast it! We're locked out."

"**I'll** unlock it." The smuggler stated, loading his gun for a precise shot.

"Allow me." Chalkerc said as he drew his blue saber and in one motion, sliced the console in two, deactivating the field in turn.

"Could have done that earlier." Riggs stated, now really pissed.

"We didn't have a Sith to worry about earlier, soldier!" Jorgan rebutted.

"Go!" He yelled. The smuggler ran first, Riggs behind, while the others and their companions followed in suit.

The Marauder was Force choking Asara when they got to them. T7, Shalden, Corso, Flexon, and Aric drew their guns to open fire, but Chlakerc and Marii stopped them in case the Sith pushed Asara into their line of fire. Marii had to physically put both hands on Qyzen to halt the trandoshian's advance. The Sith let of the Ambassador not a moment after that. The Imperials' guns were still trained on them, but them didn't make any moves.

"Greetings. I am Vokk." The Sith's voice was hollow, vile, and all things sinister. He turned to the party before him, his head still down but surveyed his foes down the line. The Ambassador slowly rose up behind him, the stepped away ever so slower, walking wounded, though.

He first turned to the Republic's finest. With intense disgust. "Soldiers? What a waste. No soldier can match the power of a Sith." Flexon and Aric were just itching to pull their triggers and gut this bastard.

"You must not have heard of Havoc Squad." Flexon shot back.

The dark one didn't even budge. "I don't waste time with trivial nonsense."

His hooded shifted to the smuggler and the ex-resistance fighter. With equal distaste. "Kilran promised me a challenge, and **this** is what I get?"

Shalden's and Corso's fingers were getting more twitchy than the soldiers' were. "I haven't met anyone who could stop me yet." He boasted.

Vokk sounded like he chuckled. "None of you will leave here alive."

"I'm betting you're completely insane." Corso said.

Vokk might have taken offense to that, far he stood still just for a moment before blasting out, "Pitiful scum like you cannot grasp the full nature of the Sith!"

Then as his head turned halfway to the Jedis' direction, his whole tone shifted. "At least - real, live Jedi. How I looked forward to this. A true Sith cannot go long without a true challenge." His voice transformed in maddening glee.

Chalkerc was far from threatened. "You created conflict you need not make. We can settle this peacefully."

Vokk brushed off the proposal like it nothing. "Typical of a Jedi. I was promised a battle, and I will **have **it." He took a deep breath as his hooded head went back and forth between his foes. "To destroy a dangerous foe - _that_ is the way of a true Sith. But you…you are nothing. Less than nothing." These insults were obviously for the smugglers and the soldiers. His voice was human, but his words weren't at all. The next insults were for the Jedi. "When I carve out both of your hearts from your chests, your fellow Jedi will sense your defeat, as will my master. He will see how far I have come."

Chalkerc was losing patience, but knew not to lose him emotions in this confrontation with the Sith. "The Force is life, not death. You don't to continue down the dark path. You can still embrace peace."

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion. And through passion, I gain strength." Vokk barked, repeating a verse of the Sith code.

"The power of the dark side is infinite…are you all ready to face oblivion?" He asked, the Sith soldier's guns primed and ready for their orders to attack.

"I do not fear you." Chalkerc said strongly, his droid in agreement, as his turned his blue lightsaber on and moved in the Soresu form.

"There is no darkness that does not flee from the light." Marri added, moving into the Shi-cho form. Qyzen drew his vibroblade in sheer glee at the battle soon to come. Everyone else was well prepared for an attack.

Vokk seemed to snicker as he lifted his head, revealing-blood covering eyes and skin of nightmarish grey. "There will be no fleeing from this fight!"

Shalden decided one more insult was needed. "If I didn't know any better, I might be impressed with your chatter."

Vokk's smile was hideous. "You're right - words are _nothing_ without **action**!" He charged, his red blades igniting like rods of fires as red laser fire was unloaded upon the defenders of the Republic.

* * *

Florn. In the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim.

A planet that many know of but dare not go to, whether you be Republican or Imperial, Jedi or Sith. Unless you absolutely had to go there.

It is a place known for it vigorous and often extremely challenging martial arts training, as well as learning the most ancient and advanced forms of lightsaber techniques.

It is known as a place of beauty, of life, of freedom, where man and women have the liberty to carry out their goals there dreams without the eyes of the Empire set on them...as long as they went about their business in the confines of the law, of course.

Florn underwent a renaissance some four hundred years ago, where scientists and artists made breakthroughs in their fields thought to never happen in their time.

Josquin De Grey's 101 Symphonies. Alexico Magnus's Palace of Light and Star Tower. The renowned Florn Academy of Combat started by King Florn the 5th.

Magnificent works. A true vision of what the Empire could be.

Their ruler was not of the same mind.

Nicollo Massiavini, as his was once known by, from a time long forgotten by historians or ignored otherwise, ruled Florn and her surrounding moons for the better part of the latter half of the Florn Renaissance, as well as the five systems not 15 parsecs or more from one another. He was trained as a Sith starting at the age of five, a life he never wanted, and worked his way up the ranks to claiming the title of Darth Huntarous, the Jedi Hunter, just over a century and a half before the Treaty of Coruscant was signed. He claimed a seat on the Dark Council in 3567 BBY, but resigned the post due to personal issues and political difference with his fellow Sith, particularly Dark Thanaton and Ravage. He and Darth Marr remained on good terms after his resignation. Ironically, it was Huntarous himself who recommended Rycus Kilran for further promotion to the Minster of War after the Battle of Ord Ibanna.

Deciding that life as a Sith was no longer eventful, he put his mind to the challenge of settling down. The worlds that the Sith occupied held no place in his heart, though; he was comfortable with the dark side of the Force, but not the Empire and its policies, its savage nature, its Code. Scouring the Rim for a good decade, he soon found himself in the Florn system. He thought it was another waste container of a planet. Once he stepped foot on her shores and saw her majestic grasslands and mighty mountains, he knew he found his home and long last.

The conquest of Florn was simple, if no delicate; he ordered his legion to subdue the populous but cause no harm or damage to Florn's great wonders. Upon seeing the famous Sith lord he had only heard vague tales of, King Florn the 5th stepped down from the throne and granted it to Huntarous. He declared Florn his, and when the Empire came, he assured the Emperor's representatives, his old apprentices no less, that Florn would not join the Republic and be a stalwart member of the Empire, but he had full control of how Florn would be ruled. Huntarous was known to be unlike his fellow Sith, not truly evil or devious, but nor was he over generous. Still, he allowed his people to live peacefully, without fear of the Empire watching their every move.

Not a month after that, he married Florn's daughter, Karisha the Glorious, and with her had three children, one adopted. Marko was his eldest, followed by Celine, then Karnac. Tennant was found as an oprhaned baby in a sewer drain; his cries caught the ears of the Sith as his walking one day strolling in Florn's forest. All his children were Froce sensitive, something he found out sooner with his eldest and later with the others. He did not wish the life of the Sith upon them, nor the life of a Jedi, so he secretly trained them to not only have them take control in the Force, but because he wanted them to learn his ways, not only the ways of the dark side of the Force.

At this moment of time, as Vokk and the Republic defenders were locked in combat, he was mediating in his private audience chambers, dressed in a fine olive cloak. Six simple lanterns were lite with purple flame in a circle, and he was in its core. In a mere flash, the fires vanished, and a white lightning bolt struck down far away but very visible through the 30 foot tainted glass window of the first king of Florn.

Huntarous opened his eyes as the thundered bellowed over the rainy skies of Florn. His forehead was sweating.

His premonitions were coming true.

The moment of fate was soon upon the Galatic Core.

The doors behind him opened.

"Father..." spoke a sift voice. It was his lovely daughter, Celine. "You didn't come down for dinner." Seeing her father didn't move, she edged ever closer to him. "Are you alright?"

He finally breathed. "Yes, Celne. I...wasn't hungry. Sorry to worry you."

She crossed her, unconvinced. "That's the fourth time in two weeks, father. Are you unwell?"

He allowed a smile. She was always the one to look out for him when he looked out for her brothers in their younger days. "No...I've been having more visions or late."

This troubled her. "Have they come true?"

He seemed to pondered some thought or another. "Not all of them...but events are now in motion that will change the course of the Cold War...and, ultimately, the fate of the galaxy."

Celine seemed to think about this with a high value of worry, but Huntarous merely grasped her arm gently. "Don't worry, my dear. Nothing I've seen will affect us at all. I promise you."

Celine was not unconvinced, unlike her brothers, she wasn't one to hang onto every word from her father. She knew better. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Go back downstairs with the others. I will join you shortly."

She was not pleased, but nonetheless obeyed, knowing her father was adamant in reassurance, false or genuine. Celine kissed her father on the forehead and left, closing the door behind her. Huntarous sighed then looked long and hard into the stormy skies above his city, his home.

The door opened again, but it was not Celine or any other family member.

It was Huntarous's personal bodyguard, a custom-outfitted HK-50 Assassination droid, code-named "Tank".

"Inquiry: You summoned me, Master Huntarous?" the droid asked.

The former Sith Lord turned his head to his longtime companion of thirty years to the day. "Shut the door."

The droid complied and shut the door. The King of Florn again gazed upon the landscape of his beautiful kingdom.

"Concerned Query: Are you alright, master? You do not seem...yourself. Should I go kill something to please you?"

Huntarous sighed, amused at his droid's attempt at appeasement. "Not today, 'Tank'...my friend, do you remember eleven years ago, when the idea of the Treaty was tabled to the Council, and you said you would give it a decade before peace was broken?"

"Smug Statement: Of course, master. That was when I wanted to plummel that meatbag Rodian for nearly stealing my modules."

Huntarous chuckled; yes, he remembered that incident quite well. Then he was still.

'Tank' broke the silence. "Query: Has the real war broken out yet?"

"No, but skirmishes have increased...that's not why I called you, though. Are your protocols fully functional?"

"Boasting Statement: They are as sharp as a Krayt Dragon's tooth, master."

"Good. Very good."

"Query: What is your wish, master?"

Huntarous rose up and turned to the droid with fierce eyes. "I have a mission for you. It regards...the order I gave to you when I found Tennant."

If there ever was a moment when a droid display distress to the maximum level,this would be it. "Shocked Query: Master...it - it is time already?"

"Yes." was the King of Florn's reply.

"Unexpected Confession: Master, preparations are not even halfway completed. It will still take another-"

"I know. But we're running out of time." He clasped both hands on the droid. "'Tank', listen to me. This mission can only be done by you; I cannot trust anyone else, not even my apprentices. Not even that mercenary from Dxun who I still say his prices are overrated. Their loyalties are with the Emperor and the Council now. This is _yours_ and yours alone. Do you remember what I asked you to do?"

If droids could gulped or take a crap, 'Tank' would have done both just now. "Humble Statement: Yes, master."

"Are your protocols upgraded enough to complete the mission?"

"Guilty Confession: My lord, all necessary tests have diagnosed that I can complete the mission to the fullest margin. However, I do no feel they are...adequate enough, especially with -"

"_That_ task can be done with time. I will ask you one more time, old friend. Will you do this for me?!"

Another thunderclap boomed, but both man and droid were deaf to it.

'Tank' nodded. "Sad Statement: Master...I will do ask you command."

Huntarous seemed satisfied immensely. "Thank you."


End file.
